


Socks

by Monstrous_Moonshine



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Boys In Love, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Socks, Soft Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Soft soft, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29272332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monstrous_Moonshine/pseuds/Monstrous_Moonshine
Summary: Carlos likes wearing socks...This was written based on a conversation at the Lone Star conference yesterday.  I’m not saying who the conversation was with and who inspired this to be planned at 2am but it helped with the post con blues today!!
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Comments: 4
Kudos: 118





	Socks

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like!

Carlos liked wearing socks.

He’s from Texas, he’s used to heat and warmth and  _ hot _ and so he can’t bear being cold at all. His apartment has wooden floors and they’re cold in the middle of the night if he has to get up for some reason, whether that’s stumbling to the bathroom or down the stairs to get a drink of water. When he has an early shift it’s like a comfort blanket to have them on his feet, keeping him safe. 

It had started when he’d been young and first moved to Texas and he’d missed home so much. He’d been given a pair of socks to wear to bed by his mother and she’d sang him to sleep, soft and quiet and warm in his bed, her fingers combing through his curls until he’d dropped off, tears forgotten in the dreams that had followed. Ever since then, he’d always associated socks with being comforted, with being warm, with being home. Socks for Christmas, socks for birthdays, socks for any occasion, he was always happy to pull out a pair of them and wear them around the house.

Michelle had always laughed at him a little, but he’d needed them whenever he’d been broken up with from yet another horrible boy, ones who didn’t want to put up with his shift work or didn’t want him or didn’t care for him in the way he wanted them to. She’d been around to pick up the pieces then and realise just how much he needed the comfort from something as incoculus as a pair of soft socks. In the end, she started buying him some as well.

None more so than when TK had swam into his life. Carlos had fallen, so hard and so fast for the beautiful man he’d met on a call. But of course it hadn’t gone smoothly, he’d pushed too hard, too fast and TK had been struggling with his past and they’d stumbled through what had turned into a right mess. TK being shot, the way he’d consistently pushed Carlos away even though he was also pulling him into his orbit at every possible chance. Carlos hadn’t known what to do with himself, calm and collected and trying to smile and let TK decide what they were going to be on the surface, he had to show that face all the time and he couldn’t afford to slip up at all. But tucked away in his house, in his bed, wrapped in sheets that sometimes smelt like TK and held too many memories and dreams of what could have been, he would crumble. Michelle spent too many nights round his house, talking and trying to help and Carlos appreciated her so much, but the thing that had helped the most had been the memory of the comfort of the socks. He’d never worn so many pairs out as he did in those few months.

And then the solar storm had happened, and in one day he’d gone from breaking up with TK, to holding his hand on the bonnet of his Camaro, staring at the lights playing across his face as he’d said, “we make a pretty good team.” He’d been stroking Carlos’ hand with the one wrapped around his, cradling it with the other one he had in his hoody pocket, surrounding him and wanting to start a proper relationship. It was every dream come true, even if Carlos knew he’d have to take things slow, let TK dictate the pace. He was willing, so willing to do it for this man, the one who’d wormed his way into his heart and his life without even trying.

It had taken a while for TK to realise his obsession with socks. At the start of their relationship they’d been crazy over each other, spending most of the days and nights they could in bed with no need for any clothes at all. It had lasted for months, this almost primal need to be close to each other, to make up for time they’d missed being able to spend with each other and Carlos wasn’t complaining when he had TK wrapped around him, when he was wrapped around TK in turn. And then it had settled down into something deeper, something more profound, something long term. The thing Carlos had been craving all his life, someone who cared for him and who he cared for, someone he was starting to build a life with. TK practically moved in, unofficially of course because they’d only just started dating after all, spending all his time off shift at Carlos’ and now not all of it spent learning each other. Carlos had never been happier in his life than when he could cuddle on the sofa with TK, watching movies or films or just kissing him as often as he could, relishing in the way TK responded and wanted him back.

But it had been the first time TK had stayed over properly that had exposed him. It wasn’t like TK hadn’t slept over before, but up to then it would have been after sex, when they’d not bothered to put on clothes and just snuggled close to each other. This was a different thing, the acknowledgement that this was more than just sex to both of them and Carlos hadn’t wanted to mess things up. He’d got dressed for bed in the bathroom, brushing his teeth as he grinned at the collection of TK’s stuff that had migrated onto his shelves over the months they’d been together. He’d never known anyone who needed as many different hair and face products as his boyfriend, even though he thought it was hereditary, after all, Owen was just as bad if not worse. It made his house feel like theirs, that TK was on the same page about building their futures together.

TK was already sitting in bed, flicking through his phone when he came into the room, but he looked up the minute he heard Carlos approaching, a smile on his face that made it light up whenever he saw him. Carlos had never had anyone look at him like that before, ever. It warmed him up from the very bottom of his stomach.

“Hey, babe,” TK said happily, his eyes dragging over Carlos’ body, over the soft, well worn sleep shirt he was wearing, his bare legs and then he coughed, hiding his mouth with a hand.

“What?” Carlos asked, knowing full well TK was trying hard not to laugh.

“You’re wearing socks?” TK removed his hand, his lips twitching into a smile, his eyes alight as he stared at Carlos. “To bed?”

“Yeah,” Carlos said. “Something wrong with that?”

“No!” TK gestured with one of his hands, like he was trying to explain his reaction. “It’s just… well… I’ve never met anyone who sleeps in socks before. It’s just…. unexpected.”

Carlos huffed a little as he slid into bed beside TK. “I like to stay warm,” was what he decided to say, unsure of how everything else would come out if he admitted it was like a comfort blanket for him. He knew that TK was still insecure, that he was still sure that Carlos would leave him and any little hint that he needed comfort would be enough to send him spiralling.

“I can keep you warm now,” TK suggested with a leer, rolling closer and sliding his cold feet onto Carlos’ calves. “You’re always like a furnace anyway, baby.”

“Maybe the socks help me be a furnace,” Carlos said, pulling TK even closer into his arms. “And I need all the heat I can get, because you’re freezing.”

“You don’t mind,” TK said, and as he leant in and kissed Carlos, soft and sweet, he knew he was right, he didn’t mind TK being there at all.

The light teasing continued though, TK never really understanding why Carlos would want to wear ‘dad’ socks in the evening. It wasn't a problem, Carlos quite liked the gentle ribbing and the way that TK would use that to show his feelings towards Carlos that he couldn’t say. And the longer they were together, the more TK seemed to realise that the socks weren’t just for warmth, that they represented more for Carlos than he was letting on.

One evening, after a long hard shift, Carlos had come home and found TK in his house, cooking food despite the fact that he’d also been on shift and must be tired himself. “Hey, babe,” he greeted him with a warm smile when he came into the kitchen, standing on his toes for a quick hello kiss. “I’ve left some clothes out for you, why don’t you get changed and we can talk about your day if you want to? Or we can just cuddle on the sofa. I don’t mind either way.”

Carlos kissed him once more, holding him close and thanking his lucky stars that he had this incredible man in his life who understood what he had to do every day and wanted him even through all the mess of their working lives. But it was when he stumbled into his bedroom after a shower that his heart melted into a puddle. Because, with the soft sweats and the beloved yellow hoody of TK’s that had been laid out for him to wear, was a pair of his grey woollen socks. A simple gesture that touched him because it showed that TK had noticed, TK had seen why he wore the socks even though they’d never talked about it. TK saw him.

When he came back downstairs, dressed in the clothes and socks and TK turned from where he was plating up whatever he’d decided to cook and his eyes just softened, Carlos couldn’t help himself. He strode across the room so he could pull TK into his arms, despite the squark that got him as TK fumbled with the plate he was holding, putting it down somewhere as Carlos kissed him deep and full of emotion. “Thank you,” he whispered into TK’s mouth. “Thank you.”

“You’re so welcome,” TK whispered back, his fingers stroking through Carlos’ hair and his lips mere millimetres from Carlos’ own. “Do anything for you, ‘Los.”

Carlos never had to tell him why socks meant so much to him, but TK seemed to know and understand and that meant more than any long winded conversation in which Carlos knew he’d never be able to fully explain himself. TK needed nothing, apart from Carlos to be happy. Carlos knew he loved him. He’d been in love with TK Strand since practically the first moment they’d met, and now every day he was falling more and more. 

The day of the volcano was one of the worst of his career. He worked hard all day, knowing that TK would be up to the thick in it too, that they were both in danger but that they’d not known how the day would go when they’d kissed each other goodbye. He wished he’d had a chance to say how he felt, how much he loved TK even if TK wasn’t ready to say it back, because what if something happened to either one of them and TK never knew? Carlos didn’t think he could bear it.

But things got worse when the call came through, a 10-42 from the 126 fire truck. Carlos was back at the station when it filtered through to him and he couldn’t even stand up from his desk, all the breath leaving his body in a horrible rush. TK. Not TK, please, not TK. But not one of his friends, either, he didn’t know how he could bear losing any of them. His colleagues all knew about his attachment to the 126 and they all tried to help. His partner sat and waited with him until the chief came out, patted Carlos on the shoulder and told him that it had been Tim.

Tim, who Carlos had known and worked with and still had that momentary feeling of relief that it was him. Because it meant it wasn’t TK. And even though there was part of him that hated that he felt that relief, he also couldn’t stop it. He didn’t want to imagine life without TK. 

He stayed late at the desk, shuffling papers for around an hour just to avoid going home because he knew TK would have to do all the required reports before the shift would be called at an end. He wasn’t even sure if TK would come to him, but he needed to see him, to check face to face that he was ok, even if he wouldn’t be  _ ok _ . But at the same time he couldn’t go back to a cold, empty house for too long, to be alone instead of keeping busy, allowing him to think about what had happened and how TK would be feeling and everything else that was spiralling through his mind.

It was only when the security guard jangled his keys at the doorway that he had no choice but to leave and go home. To a house that for a few minutes earlier in the day he had been sure he wouldn’t be able to share with TK anymore. To a boyfriend that may or may not be coming over, in a state of mind that Carlos couldn’t be sure of but could take a good guess. And there was no way he wanted him to come home and be alone. He wanted TK to be able to walk into the house and that the first thing he would see would be the person that cared for him and loved him and wanted him to be safe. He was going to wait, however long it took for TK to arrive.

He changed into T-shirt and shorts and of course, a pair of black socks, warm and comforting to him as well. He needed it, needed the reassurance from those few awful minutes where he’d not known who it was, when his mind had raced with thoughts of what he could have lost. And then he sat on the stairs, facing the door, leaning against the railings and he waited.

It was dark and very late or very early depending on the point of view when the door quietly creaked open and TK snuck in, keys in hand, turning to shut the door silently behind him, obviously trying not to wake up Carlos. When he turned around and he saw Carlos sitting there, waiting, his face changed, his eyes widening, his mouth dropping open a little as the realisation dawned that Carlos was there for him. Carlos held a hand out and TK stumbled towards him, half falling into his arms. Carlos slid his arms around him, one underneath his jacket so he could stroke the skin below his shirt and the other as tight as he could get around TK’s back. He leant over so he was surrounding TK in love and warmth and kissed his hair, letting his boyfriend crumple and fall into pieces in his arms. He held him tightly, showing how much he cared and loved him in actions, words not needed from either of them.

It was when TK’s breathing had evened back out and his shaking had subsided into a slight tremor that he raised his face from where he’d been pressing it into Carlos’ shoulder. His face was pale, eyes rimmed red, but he looked so perfect to Carlos still. He leant forward and kissed his forehead, lips lingering for a second on the skin, trying to hide his own emotions from the man in his arms, the one he wanted to be strong for.

“Thank you,” TK said, voice rough from everything that had happened, but full of so much feeling it choked Carlos up again.

He wiped the thin skin of his cheekbones lightly with his fingertip, brushing away the remnants of tears. “I’d do anything for you,” he said. 

TK smiled a little at that, thin and watery, but here and present and alive. His fingers stroked over the edges of the socks Carlos was wearing, brushing the skin of his calves, soft and gentle as he moved. “Is it ok that I came?”

“Yes,” Carlos pushed out the word immediately. “I wanted you here, I needed you here. I don’t want to let you go.”

“Good,” TK snuggled back in despite the uncomfortable position they were in. “Because you’re my home, ‘Los, there was no one else I wanted except you all day.”

Carlos pulled him closer. “Let’s get to bed, it’ll be more comfy than here,” he suggested and TK let him pull him up, unsteady and needing support as they shuffled up the rest of the stairs and into the bedroom.

Carlos sat him on the edge of the bed and knelt to remove his shoes, stopping when TK reached out and stroked a hand down his jaw. “You sat and waited for me,” he said, eyes full of wonder. 

“Of course, where else would I be?” Carlos asked and he leant forward and pressed a shaky kiss against TK’s knee to hide the fact that his lips were trembling. 

“Carlos,” TK breathed out, putting so much into that one word that Carlos knew even though he couldn’t say the words, it was clear exactly how TK felt about him.

“You want a pair of socks?” he offered instead, because if they weren’t quite there yet for the words then at least he could offer him the physical representation of the feeling.

The kiss TK gave him as he tumbled into his lap on the floor showed he understood that sentiment just as much as Carlos had understood him.

It happened more often, after that day. Carlos would miss socks from his drawer, wondering if he’d worn more pairs than he realised or was washing them too slow. But then he had to pop into the station to drop something off and he saw TK, lounging about in between calls with the rest of the station crew, boots off as he lay on the sofa. He was wearing a pair of Carlos’ socks.

He said nothing, not wanting to bring it to attention, but he knew, it was imprinted in his mind, that TK was choosing to wear his socks, as a way of being close to him, to being home, to comfort, and it made a warm feeling settle into his chest. It was obvious now he’d seen it, the way TK would brush his fingers over his ankles as they got dressed for work, the way he’d hide the worn socks in laundry, the way he’d sneak them out when he thought Carlos wasn’t watching.

When the bush fire happened and they found out that they would be separated for a month whilst TK went out to fight, Carlos didn’t know how he would be able to cope without his boyfriend. It would be the longest time they’d been apart since they’d started properly dating. He laid out a weeks worth of socks on the bed and nodded to TK who was packing his bag. “They’re for you,” he said, “take them and wear them and think of me.”

“Carlos,” TK said, breathy and hoarse and it was like he’d been offered a ring not a set of socks. “Baby.”

He left his yellow hoody, tucked underneath Carlos’ pillow on their bed. It smelt like TK and Carlos may have slept with it in his arms for the entire time TK was away. Maybe it wasn’t just socks now that made him feel warm, comforted, home. Maybe it was the other person he shared his life with.

The bush fire over, TK returned home and things went back to how they were before.

And then one day, TK came home after his shift, holding onto a plain brown bag with tight fingers that showed his nerves. He placed it on the table and then straddled Carlos’ lap on the sofa, knees sliding down either side of Carlos’ thighs as he kissed him deep and dirty. “Hi to you too,” Carlos teased once he’d been able to get his breath back from the welcome, his fingers pressing into TK’s waist, tilting his head to allow the space for TK to kiss and nip along his jaw and neck and throat. “What’s this for?”

“Do I need a reason?” TK murmured in between the attention he was giving to Carlos’ skin. “You’re my boyfriend. You’re beautiful.”

Carlos pulled him back up for more kisses, lingering and addictive in the dim light of the apartment. But he was surprised when TK broke the contact between their lips, rather reluctantly and balanced himself on Carlos carefully, reaching behind him for the bag. Carlos was surprised he didn’t pitch off his lap onto the table based on the contortions he had to perform to reach it, but he was obviously refusing to let go of Carlos in any way. 

When he looked back up, his green eyes were unusually full of nerves. He was fumbling the bag between his hands. “Hey,” Carlos said gently, letting his fingers stroke up under TK’s shirt onto his stomach. “What’s up?”

“I got this for you,” TK said, quickly and shoved the bag towards Carlos. “A while ago, when I was out fighting the bush fire. But I wanted to add something on… and yeah. So…”

Carlos opened the bag, surprised beyond belief when he pulled out the softest, warmest, loveliest pair of socks he’d ever owned. But what made things even better was the painstakingly embroidered word on the side of each. Obviously hand done, shaky and slightly off centre but with passion and love in every single stitch. Papi.

He knew his mouth had dropped open as he stroked over the work with a wondering finger, eyes meeting the emerald green ones in front of him. “Ty,” he whispered.

“I asked Grace to teach me,” TK said, talking quickly like he was nervous. “I wanted to do something to show you how I feel about you, papi. You are everything to me. My home. My comfort. My world. And I know what socks mean to you. But I wanted them to be special, to be yours. It’s silly…

He was rambling so Carlos shut him off the only way he knew. He pulled TK’s face to his and kissed the words off his tongue, licking into his warm mouth in just the way he knew made TK’s knees weak. “Take me to bed,” he managed to murmur. “Please. Baby.”

Afterwards, they slept, curled around each other. 

Carlos woke first, as normal, even on off days he was usually awake before TK even stirred. He slid out of bed, wanting to make breakfast before TK awoke, knowing they’d need energy for the plans he had for the rest of the day. Pulling on his boxers, he picked up the socks he’d placed almost reverently onto the bedside table when they’d stumbled into the bedroom. He ran his fingers over the words on the top. Papi. He didn’t think TK knew what that had done to him, seeing that word, knowing TK called him that. It meant so much. He pulled them on with his boxers and pottered downstairs to start fixing breakfast.

He heard the noise of TK before anything else, stumbling steps coming downstairs, and turned to meet him as he came across the room. Barefoot, wearing a hoody and boxers with bed head, he looked so beautiful Carlos just stared for a few minutes.

But the reaction from TK was even more intense. He stopped still, his eyes raking over Carlos, from his bare chest, to his boxers, to the socks he was wearing, the papi socks. His gaze turned hungry, slowly looking back up to meet Carlos’ eyes, the want clear on his face as he stared. “Fuck, papi,” he breathed. “The socks….”

Carlos could feel his body starting to react, the way TK was looking at him was so sexy. “I’m making breakfast,” he started but TK shrugged.

“Leave it,” he suggested, stepping into Carlos’ body space, letting his fingers trail over collarbones and arms and chest, to his belly button and then hooking into the top of his boxers. “There’s a perfectly good sofa just over there. Let’s make use of it before we have breakfast. Get these off, baby. But you can leave your socks on though.” 


End file.
